


Who are you waiting for?

by Vague_Faint_Distortions



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket, All the Wrong Questions - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Anagrams, Angst-ish?, Gen, Moral Dilemmas, Oneshot, Questioning VFD, disguises, first fanfic, root beer floats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 01:34:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14945138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vague_Faint_Distortions/pseuds/Vague_Faint_Distortions
Summary: A conversation between a baticeer and a woman disguised as a waitress brings forth more mysteries.A post-ASOUE oneshot.





	Who are you waiting for?

**Author's Note:**

> Idk, this is my first fanfic so I hope you guys like it!
> 
> (Just saying but figuring out anagrams was actually quite fun)

Sighing is a peculiar phenomenon. One can sigh if they’re relieved. For example, when one dressed in a bullfighting costume has ultimately evaded their pursuers in a wild chase during a grand ball, they may feel extremely lucky not to fall into the clutches of their former captors, pant for a few minutes, and release a sigh of relief. One, however, can also sigh when disappointed. If one is confident that they have studied the exam material well, yet find out later they failed the exam, they may sigh, dismayed, and start plotting ways to cheat on the next test. Of course, none of that happens in this story.

As a woman in her forties, disguised as a waitress, slipped out of the restroom into the main kitchen of the Veritable French Diner, she sighed. She had been assigned the task of delivering a coded message hidden in a platter of devilled eggs in Larry’s absence, and was glad the job was finally done. The sigh was neither of relief, nor was it of disappointment. It was a sigh of tiredness, of someone who has seen many things, and done many things, most of which they regret. She was weary, too weary to do anything more than her assignment, too weary to question the purposes of it. Was she working for the noble or wicked side? She did not know, and she was too tired to care. 

She reached the dining tables in the main hall, pretending to be busy observing how satisfied the customers were with the dishes while trying the catch a glimpse at the table where the devilled eggs were sent to, making sure the recipient did in fact receive his message. But another scene caught her eye. At the side by the counter, a girl, who looked no more than ten, was crouched over the high table, her legs dangling freely off the floor. She was sipping a root beer float, with an empty chair beside her and another frosted glass placed there. She must have been waiting there for at least half an hour. The girl looks lonely, the waitress thought. Although she wasn’t keen to having conversations that night—she would’ve collapsed on a sofa instantly if there was one—she felt strangely compelled to get to know her. She slowly approached the counter, increasingly apprehensive with each step she took, and stood beside the girl. She looked up from her root beer float with a startled, yet questioning expression in her dark brown eyes. This woman, with a slender figure, jet black hair, eyebrows shaped just question marks and a smile that could’ve meant anything, was definitely not who she was expecting, no matter how convincing her associate was in disguises.

“I didn’t realise this was a sad occasion.” The waitress began. 

“The world is quiet here.” It was almost a whisper, as if the girl did not want to be heard at all.

The woman smiled weakly. “You seem to have been staying here, waiting for someone for an awfully long time.” She asked the question that is the title of this account, hoping it wasn’t the wrong question. “Is it your chaperone?”

The girl frowned into her glass, which was nearly empty. She hesitated before replying. “Um- yes. Sorry, you are…?”

“Filene N. Gottlin. You can call me Filene.” She gestured to her name-tag, which read Filene-Your-Waitress.

“My name is Stacie Bric Kent. A pleasure.” She searched in her bag and found a business card, which she handed to Filene. It read, Stacie Bric Kent, 10 years old, Baticeer Extraordinaire.

Baticeer. When had she heard of it before? It must have been years ago, perhaps someone brought it up during some training course, but that wasn’t important. Filene knew immediately this was not the girl’s name, but she did not question about it further. After all, she didn’t give anyone her real name either. “Stacie, who is this chaperone of yours? They seem to be taking a really long time to arrive.”

“Well… I guess he’s not really my chaperone. It’s my uncle, Simon Cley Kent.” She originally decided against telling this woman—who she was sure wasn’t called Filene—her true motives, but she didn’t see any harm in doing so. “I’m an orphan, and he promised to help me search for my guardians. I lost contact with them many years ago. He’s been very busy recently on various projects he never tells me about, so I’m sure it’s not surprising he’s this late for the appointment.” Her eyes diverted her attention back to the glass, in which only melted ice cream remained.

If there was one word to describe the girl, it would be “lost”, Filene thought. Lost in the dark mystery of the Schism-torn VFD, an arcane web of threatening secrets. She couldn’t help but wonder how much this mysterious girl reminded her of herself during her days in Stain’d-By-The-Sea. How many times had she waited in Black Cat Coffee for so many suspicious acquaintances, hoping to find any clue that would get her closer to saving her father? And Snicket, the boy she hoped so much to trust, had failed to keep his promise anyway and- and… Even to this day, she could not bring herself to describe to herself the crime he committed. Oh, how much she hated him! She could barely think of him without ending in tears, or an attempt to stifle her sobs. Then suddenly, it clicked. Simon Cley Kent… How in the world did this girl become associated with him? And- that meant her real name must be…

“Beatrice Snicket.” No, she hadn’t meant to say it out loud. All the fatigue that had once engulfed her vanished instantly. She immediately gasped and covered her mouth.

Beatrice’s eyes widened in shock, and she nearly dropped her glass onto the floor. “How did you know?” 

Filene only shook her head. It couldn’t be possible. Yet, she could not deny the uncanny resemblance in her and Kit’s eyes. No no no, it can’t be! She thought. She had spent so many years trying to avoid him, and lead a simple quiet life, but she couldn’t face him now. What would she say to him? No, it wasn’t a possibility.

“You can’t- L is dead.” How much she wanted to believe it was true, it was almost as if she was trying to convince herself more than she was to the girl.

Beatrice laughed. “Filene, I just met him a few months ago, and he was alive and well. Besides, he assured me he was extremely good at staying alive, so I needn’t worry.” 

Now it was Filene’s turn to be speechless. The flashbacks came flooding back to her, and she was beginning to feel increasingly nauseated. This information was too much for one night. Her suspicions had been proved to be correct, and it could not have been worse for her. The question she had asked so innocently had the answer that would now only torment and ruin her endlessly. This had to be the most wrong question she had ever asked in her life.

“What do you know about my uncle? Please tell me! He refuses to tell me anything too ‘dangerous’ about him, my guardians or even the organisation itself! Even though I conduct my own research, I’ve never been able to dig up many answers at all. In fact, it seems as if the more answers I uncover, the more mysteries there actually are…”

Filene shut her eyes in a desperate attempt to clench her tears. When her vision returned, everything became a blurry mess. “No, I can’t tell you… But you must stay away from Lemony. He is an extremely dangerous man who has been charged with numerous crimes!”

“Miss, would you honestly believe all the garbage published on the Daily Punctilio? You know all volunteers have been advised against trusting any information sourced from that atrocious newspaper. Besides, he’s my uncle. He’s the only family I have now.” Nevertheless, there was a clear hint of uncertainty in her wavering voice.

“Beatrice, I’m very sure of a crime he committed once. I witnessed him murder a man many years ago…” She had said too much now. Stupid you, she thought. Why would you tell the young girl all this, when she could easily tell him? What would she do then?

The girl flinched, as if the words had hurt her, too. She could not bear knowing the fact that her only associate, her lone close relative had committed a crime… “But what if he had to do the wrong thing for the right reasons?” She knew how naïve it sounded, but she couldn’t help it.

“Young lady, one day you’ll soon realise there is no line between right or wrong, noble or wicked. We are all merely creatures in the enigma of life, simply trying to get what we want, making our way through a difficult world. We may make acquaintances with people who cannot be trusted, or commit crimes for supposedly noble purposes… just so we can survive in this cruel web of sinister secrets and plots. As long as they fulfil our own selfish purposes, then so be it.” Her own father had told her this long ago, and she never truly believed it until now.

Beatrice wore an even more troubled expression than before, and remained silent. 

A few moments later, a bulky figure rushed into the restaurant, wearing a bowler hat which covered most of his face in shadows. Filene gasped, and whispered hurriedly, “Beatrice, please don’t tell Lemony about me. Be careful around him. If you ever need me, my name is Ellington Feint.” She swiftly slipped back into the kitchen, and sighed once again. 

Poor girl. 

But what else could she do?

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me just as a sudden epiphany so I spent most of Saturday morning writing it instead of studying for my histroy exam on Tuesday like a good student... Because revising the Cold War and the New Deal and Prohibition and blah blah is clearly so much more interesting than writing fanfics... right? right?? ;)
> 
> But thankfully summer vacation is around the corner so I might have time to work on more ASOUE/ATWQ fics :D
> 
> Please tell me what you think about this fanfic, thanks!!


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